U is for Uninvited
by DreamBrother
Summary: Summer Alphabet Challenge 2007. “Like you said, Dad, I haven’t spoken to Charlie in a while. How on earth could I possibly know he’s out-of-town this weekend?”
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Numb3rs isn't mine

**A/N: **A title like this one (from the Alanis Morissette song) is just asking for some good angst.

This is also an experiment in two parts: One, trying to tell a story based strongly on the power of suggestion rather than laying all the facts on the table and two, having a very linear form (beginning-middle-end). Besides, I wanted to challenge myself a little, try something a little different from my usual spiel.

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**U is for Uninvited**

**I**

Alan shifted uncomfortably outside the door to his eldest son's apartment_. It's ridiculous, really, to be so nervous_, thought Alan, _it's not like I'm standing at the entrance to a lion's den._ _Although… that might not be very far from the truth._

Discarding any and all thoughts from his mind, Alan reached out and knocked twice, concentrating on the sounds of someone moving inside rather than what his first words were going to be.

The door opened to reveal his half-dressed son with an untied tie around his neck, hair still wet from the shower and a confused expression on his face albeit a guarded look in his eyes.

"Dad? What are you doing here so early? Everything ok?" asked Don in concern as he stepped aside to let his father enter his home.

"Nothing life-threatening, I can tell you that," assured Alan as he stepped across the threshold.

"That's always good to hear," replied Don a bit distractedly as he walked into the kitchen area. Holding up a pot of freshly made coffee, he questioned, "Dad, you want anything to drink?"

"No thanks, Donnie, I'm alright." Alan took a seat on his son's couch and did a quick glance around. Don had always been very meticulous growing up, and the state of his apartment reflected that for nothing was out of place although Alan supposed that could do more with the fact that Don was hardly here…

Pouring himself a cup which he placed on the marble counter-top, Don walked towards his father and as he tied his tie he asked, "Not that I'm not happy to see you Dad but why are you here?"

"What, a man needs a reason to come visit his son whom he hasn't seen for days?"

"No, but in the past, you've left messages on my voice mail bordering on the threatening, telling me to come over. Or, you just pop by the office with lunch. What you _don't_ do is come to my place at 7 in the morning. Can you blame me for questioning your motives?" Don asked with a lift of an eyebrow.

"Ever think you've been interrogating people too long?" said Alan in way of reply.

"After I beat the current record for most interrogations conducted, I'll quit," replied Don, "but until that happens, you'll just have to answer my question."

Alan exhaled deeply. He may as well come clean. After all, he'd come here with a purpose in mind.

"Is everything alright between you and Charlie?"

Don shrugged but didn't look his father in the eyes, which Alan noticed. "Everything's fine." Turning around and walking towards his bedroom, he tossed over his shoulder: "Why do you ask?"

"I just get the feeling you two haven't… talked… in a while."

"A feeling, huh?" Alan didn't need to see his son's face to know the expression which was probably crossing it: amused disbelief. "You know, siblings all around the world actually go without talking for over a month at a time without the family declaring a national emergency. I think it's calling leading separate lives."

"Not when those separate lives happen to go on in the same city, and often enough in the same office, as in the case of you and your brother," rebutted Alan.

Don came into view once again as he leaned against the door-post of his bedroom, fastening his cuffs but looking at his father with a curious expression on his face. "Let me guess: Charlie's had an interesting morning as well?"

Alan sighed. "That's neither here nor there."

"If he's booted you from the house, you're welcome to stay over. It's not like I'm at home all the time; it'll be like you're living all on your own," offered Don with a wry smirk.

"Don"

"Dad"

A stare-down contest began. Alan, having experience, age and memories of grounding his son many a time, was not worried. As he'd hoped, Don broke first:

"Look, what do you want from me Dad?" Don finally asked. "If it's about me not coming over enough, that can be easily remedied. How about dinner at the house this Saturday?"

"Oh, you mean the Saturday your brother is up in Palo Alto because of a symposium at Stanford?"

Don quirked an eyebrow. "Like you said, Dad, I haven't spoken to Charlie in a while. How on earth could I possibly know he's out-of-town this weekend?" He disappeared into his room before emerging a moment later with a jacket in one hand, cell-phone, wallet and gun in the other, the former of which he draped over a chair.

_Because Larry and Amita are also going with Charlie, which means Megan must have mentioned it_, thought Alan as he watched his son clip the tools of his trade to his belt.

"How about we try something a little earlier? Charlie doesn't leave for Stanford until Friday," suggested Alan.

"I'd love to, Dad, but I really can't make any commitments until the weekend. Annual review is coming up which means half the agents who aren't in the field will be getting paper cuts from all the last-minute paperwork that needs to get done." Don pulled the jacket off the chair and shrugged into in, his right arm immediately going for the cup of coffee on the counter-top before he'd even finished putting his jacket on.

"Interesting," Alan murmured.

"Not really," replied Don although he knew that wasn't what his father meant. He plopped down on the arm chair next to the couch Alan was sitting on and fixed his father with an innocent stare.

"Hmm" Alan covered his mouth with the fingers of one hand as he thought about his next move. "Charlie hasn't consulted on a case of yours lately, I've noticed."

Don rolled his eyes. "That's because there hasn't been a case which needs his expertise lately, Dad. We only call him in for a select few cases; we can handle the rest on our own just fine."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Alan hurriedly rushed to add. "I wasn't implying you can't get by without his math skills but still…"

"Still what, Dad?" Don asked. "You really think I would jeopardize a case because of something personal between me and Charlie?"

"So you admit there's something the matter between you and Charlie?" Alan pounced.

Don sighed. "No, I haven't – I was speaking hypothetically. I still don't know why you're working yourself up over something you _think_ has happened."

"Well son of mine, you'll excuse me for worrying a little over the fact that perhaps my sons will stop acting like brothers as soon as I'm not around them together." Alan pre-empted his son's indignant reply by quickly adding: "I mean, I go to Arizona to help Stan on a consulting job for a few days and for the three weeks since I've been back, you haven't visited the house once, your brother doesn't seem to know what's going on with you at all or where you've been."

Don, to his credit, listened to this quietly before smiling slightly then asking, "So I assume the credit for this goes to your new found Spidey-Sense?"

"No, it comes with the sense of being a parent," shot back Alan. He knew Don would be the harder of the two siblings to break but damn if Charlie hadn't picked up a trick or two from his elder brother, not boding well for Alan in this situation.

Don glanced quickly at his wrist-watch before standing up. "Look Dad, I don't know what to tell you, you're freaking out over nothing. Now, I've got to work, you're welcome to stay here as long as you like, just lock up when you leave, alright? And let me know if we're doing dinner on Saturday or not."

With a quick pat on his father's shoulder, Don had picked up his car keys from the kitchen counter-top and walked out the front door, firmly shutting it behind him.

"Well, that went well," spoke Alan out loud in the empty and silent apartment.

**TBC**

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Barring any complications, the next chapter should be up tomorrow night. Your thoughts, as always, are appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Numb3rs isn't mine.

**A/N: **And so, it continues. Thank you for all your lovely reviews of the first chapter.

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**U is for Uninvited**

**II**

The underlying hum of chalk clacking away on chalkboards was not an unfamiliar resonance in this place of learning but what was different about the sounds permeating from the office of one Dr. Charles Eppes was the emotion one could glean from the clacking noise: someone was frustrated, and the poor chalk was getting the short end of the stick.

Amita and Larry exchanged puzzled looks outside the closed door of their friend's office before the young Combinatorics professor gently laid her hand on the door-knob and slowly eased the door open, poking her head in first between the tiny opening to survey the situation. Pulling back, she shrugged her shoulders and raised an eyebrow in silent communication with the physicist before pushing the door open further and walking in unhindered.

"Hey Charlie," greeted Amita with false cheer, pretending not to notice the foul mood clouding her boyfriend's mind this morning.

"Charles," murmured Larry from behind her, the index fingers of both hands brought together under his lip, revealing his concern.

Charlie paused in his writing and seemed as though he was about to turn to face his friends, his lips opening for a moment to say something before he stubbornly shut them again and turned back to the blackboard and resumed his writing, silent save for the chorus of chalk on board.

Amita and Larry exchanged yet another worried glance, having a silent battle as to who would prod Charlie further. Larry drew the short straw:

"Charles?" began Larry. "Something on your mind you'd like to share with us, perhaps…?"

For a minute, they couldn't be sure if Charlie had heard his friend's question, or if having heard it, had chosen to ignore it. Fortunately, they were saved the trouble of coming up with an alternative solution when Charlie's hand paused in its frantic motion although he did not turn around:

"You know… ," began Charlie, his chalk hand waving in the air as he tried to find the right words. "Dad… just because…." Suddenly, the waving motion increased in speed as though he was swotting at a non-existent, irritating fly. "Forget about it."

The clacking sound resumed, the only thing breaking the prevailing silence in the spacious office.

Amita took the lead this time:

"Is everything alright with your Dad?" she asked in concern.

"Excepting the being blind-sided with an interrogation early in the morning, yeah, everything's just _peachy_," ground out Charlie to the blackboard but his friends heard him just fine.

Amita and Larry waited patiently – they knew from experience that at times like these, Charlie would eventually speak on his own, when and if it suited him. All they had to do was piece out the situation in an understandable manner with whatever scraps their friend's genius mind decided to send their way. Their patience proved worth their while:

"You know, you two should be glad you're an only child. At least that way, you don't have to answer to your parent all the time about your siblings and what not, it doesn't matter if you're adults or not," Charlie said as his hand continued writing with renewed vigour. The chalk let out an enraged shriek as it was scraped across the blackboard once again and Amita and Larry exchanged knowing looks. Now at least they had an idea what the foul temper was concerning: _Don_.

They'd hardly thought about formulating an appropriate response when the chalk paused once again in its horizontal path across the board.

"No, I don't mean that," Charlie said in a quieter tone. "Not really. It's great…okay not great, but it's good having a brother most of the time- when it's not _so.damn.frustrating_."

"So we are to assume this very un-Charlie-like miasma surrounding you is rooted in problems with your brother?" Larry asked cautiously, waving his hands just a little to motion to the metaphorical dark cloud hovering over Charlie.

"No, strangely enough, today's 'miasma' is to do with my father, not Don – I haven't spoken to Don in a while so he can't be credited with today's 'miasma'," said Charlie, putting emphasis on Larry's choice of words.

"Huh. I'd wondered why you haven't been called in on a consulting job lately. I guess that answers the question," Amita commented.

Charlie gave a short, humourless laugh, still not turning around to face his colleagues and close friends: "No, it's not because of that. You actually think Don would jeopardize a case, someone's _life_, because of something personal between us? The team must have caught some relatively run-of-the-mill cases lately."

"That's true," Larry admitted. "Megan's had to cancel two of our lunch dates because of the increase in her workload of late; I suppose the same, if not more, can be said for your brother."

"I still don't understand why you're upset with your Dad, Charlie," pointed out Amita as she sat down in the chair in front of Charlie's desk.

Charlie didn't reply immediately. He chose instead to put down the chalk and pick up a duster instead, aggressively erasing the two lines of expression he had written since his friends had entered the room.

"It's not that I'm _upset_ upset with my Dad, it's just… there's no point in worrying, is there? Don and I haven't always gotten along, heck I didn't even know he got engaged until 3 years after the fact, we were _that_ distant once. So what if I don't know what he's been doing for the past few weeks?"

"You've got to admit Charlie that is it strange when both of you reside in the same city. And doesn't Don practically live over at your house?"

At that, Charlie cast what seemed like a quick, guilty glance towards his friends before looking back at the blackboard. "Yeah, about that… he hasn't been over much, or rather, at all since my Dad's got back." Picking up the chalk holder, he started twirling it between the fingers of his right hand. "And I think I _might_ have had something to do with that." Charlie's tone made it abundantly clear that 'might' was an understatement, and he knew it.

Amita managed to hide her surprise but Larry couldn't help raising his eyebrows. He'd known Charlie for far longer and been present in those years when the subject of Don hardly, if ever, came up. Don's return to LA had done wonders for the brothers' relationship, for all that it wasn't smooth sailing, but hardly had it come to the point where Don would stay away from his childhood, even if work was overburdening. Or rather, _especially_ if work was overburdening.

Larry's experiences with the young genius had shown him that Charlie was never a fan of unresolved conflicts and the fact that this had gone on as long as it had was surprising. He'd not expected to hear anything amiss on the Don front through Megan because he knew that the older Eppes brother was nothing if not adept at concealing things. His friend, on the other hand…

"If I understand what you're saying correctly, Charles, I have to say I'm surprised you and your brother haven't patched things up long before now," intoned Larry worriedly.

Nervous fingers had begun writing again after Charlie's last revelation although it didn't take a genius to see the careless mistake or two dotting the mathematician's work in his distracted state of mind. At Larry's words, the chalk halted to a complete stop:

"Yeah… I guess both of us got so busy that we put it off to another day, another time. Hard to believe a few weeks have passed. Guess it's just like old times, huh?" Charlie briefly looked Larry in the eye but it was enough for the mentor to see the worry.

Amita, having gleaned enough from what was happening before her, stood up and walked around the desk and grabbed her boyfriend's shoulders and turned him slowly to face her, taking the chalk from his hands and putting it down:

"How about this, Charlie? We go to Stanford tomorrow, have a nice weekend rubbing shoulders with people who are going to be fawning all over you and when we get back, Don might have caught a break in his work, I'll cover a few of your classes if need be, and you two work things out, alright?"

When Charlie appeared hesitant, Amita hastened to add: "Just think about it, ok? For now, let's just go get some coffee. You can get back to your beloved blackboard after a decent caffeine fix." Applying pressure, she steered Charlie towards the door, the mathematician allowing himself to be led, but before exiting, Amita looked back at Larry who nodded in assent of the current distraction.

After waiting a few moments, satisfied that his friends were not going to suddenly pop into the office again, Larry leaned forward and grabbed the phone that lay somewhere under the clutter on Charlie's desk, quickly dialling a number he knew by heart.

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"Hey Don," greeted Megan as her team leader walked into the part of the bull-pen allocated to them. Noticing the less-than-cheery demeanour, as well as a very revealing phone call delivering important information, she began her data-gathering in a round-about manner: "Bad traffic?"

"Huh?" Don shot her a puzzled glance as he shrugged off his jacket and placed it on his chair before reaching forward and powering on his computer.

Megan waggled her fingers a little. "The whole angsty-vibe you're sending off this early in the morning. My bet is on bad traffic."

"Nah. Early morning visitors."

Megan grimaced. "Ouch. Landlord?"

"Father," said Don succinctly, fingers grazing over the keyboard as he typed in his login instructions.

"Oh. Everything alright with Alan?"

"Yeah"

"Ok." Megan paused, swivelling in her chair a little bit. "Everything ok with Charlie?"

Don shot her a sharp glance before focusing back on his computer screen. "Yeah, everything's fine with Charlie." Looking back at her again, he wordlessly dared her to ask more questions.

Getting the hint, Megan held up her hands in surrender and got back to work.

Shaking his head, Don turned his attention back to his monitor although his eyes weren't focusing on the FBI seal plastered on the desktop background. He'd known that the breach in his and Charlie's relationship wouldn't go unnoticed long, especially with his father back in town. Had a case come up requiring Charlie's skills, he knew that his team would have noticed something amiss, they weren't FBI agents armed with strong powers of observation for nothing.

The funny thing was how effortless it had been to throw himself whole-heartedly in his work and not focus on the outside world, where curly-haired mathematicians resided, at all. Much of his earlier years as an agent had been spent far, far away from home and Pasadena, away from family, and it was eerie how quickly he'd fallen into old habits when he put his mind to it.

It worried him, perhaps just a little bit, how easy it could be to lose touch with his brother even after the leaps and bounds they'd made in their relationship since they'd started working together on a semi-regular basis. Megan had known that his younger brother would be out of town this weekend, yet he hadn't, nor had he bothered to ask.

_But what was it with everyone playing Twenty Questions today?_

**TBC**

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Next, and most likely the last, chapter should be up tomorrow, or day after. Hope you liked this one. 'Night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Numb3rs isn't mine.

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**U is for Uninvited**

**III**

Charlie shifted his weight from foot to foot as he rode the elevator down. Getting back from Stanford late last night, he'd only felt human after a whole night's worth of uninterrupted sleep and a home-made breakfast in the morning. Classes had gone on as usual throughout the day, with Charlie thankful that he'd made the lessons plans in advance because he hadn't expected the delay in getting home. Now, he was at the FBI, it was night, and he'd used the opportunity of Larry heading over to the Federal Building to meet with Megan for a pre-planned dinner date to accompany him.

Charlie had figured it was too good an opportunity to miss. The whole weekend he'd been promising himself that he'd fix things with his brother once he got back to Los Angeles, and for better or worse, he was going to keep that promise, pride be damned.

Having his nervousness increase steadily the closer he and Larry got to the offices of the FBI, Charlie thought it strangely ironic that his brother be nowhere in sight upon arrival. The odd mix of relief and disappointment lasted only for a short while until Colby mentioned that Don was still here, he was just outside on the walkway, taking a break, grabbing some air.

And so, here was Charlie in the elevator, getting that much closer to confronting his brother, if that was the correct word for it. The elevators dinged upon arriving at the appropriate floor and Charlie waited politely for the woman who was in the elevator car with him to disembark before following her. The walkway was sufficiently lit and it wasn't too hard to recognize who was walking there, standing there, sitting there. At this time at night, there were a lot more people than expected but as Don had mentioned once, you could always expect more people in the Federal Building in the middle of the night rather than at ten in the morning.

Pushing the glass doors open, Charlie looked around as he walked forward, trying to spot Don. He recognized his brother's profile as he stood with his back towards the path, elbows on railing, looking over to the road running underneath, a hand holding up a cell-phone to the ear facing Charlie. As he made his way over to his elder brother, it became easier to hear Don's side of the conversation. He was only a few feet away when Don suddenly looked up to see who was approaching and seeing Charlie, he cut short his sentence and amended it:

"Hey Coop, I gotta go, I'll call you back later yeah?" A pause. "Alright, and stay out of trouble." Don hadn't taken his eyes off Charlie as he said this and kept them on his brother as he flipped his phone shut and slipped it inside his jacket pocket.

Charlie figured since he'd been the one to come all the way down here, Don could be the first one to say hi. Little things like that mattered, and Don did not disappoint:

"Hey," said Don cautiously, his tone giving nothing away.

Charlie nodded his head but instead of returning the greeting, decided to ask a question: "Was that Billy Cooper you were talking to? Your old partner from Fugitive Recovery?"

Don smirked as he replied: "Yeah. Most of the time Coop's either in the middle of tracking someone down and can't be reached, or I'm wrapped up in a case but once in a while, the stars align and we're both able to talk on the phone, play catch up."

Charlie nodded and then jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "You should probably call him back, I'll go; we can always do this another time." He had just started to turn around to head back into the building, grateful for the break because he wasn't sure he was ready for this, when Don's words made him halt:

"No, it's alright, it's no big deal, I can talk to Coop later, he's on leave for the next few days." Standing there, facing each other, the silence got steadily more awkward before Don decided to break it with a question: "So… how was Stanford?"

Charlie quirked an eyebrow. He shouldn't have been surprised his brother knew about his trip but it irked him just a tad that his brother knew what he'd been up to with his time, yet not the other way around. He asked half-jokingly/half-unkindly: "Been checking the flight manifestos, have we?"

Don gave a short, humourless laugh as he turned back to lean on the railing with both elbows. "And if I have?"

Charlie stepped closer and positioned himself next to his brother, leaning against the railing with his back, facing the opposite direction from his sibling.

"Stanford was fine – a bit hot. Those Ivy League guys sure know how to throw a 'party for geeks', as some would call it."

"If you say so," commented Don lightly. Normally, he would have thrown in a teasing comment but it just didn't feel appropriate at the moment, considering the unresolved tension in the air.

There was another silence, but Charlie was the one to break it this time:

"Ever think of ditching LA and going back to man-hunting or something like that?"

The question had Don glancing at his brother in surprise for a moment before he resumed his earlier position. "You know, you'd think that after all this time you could depend on me to not suddenly one day up and leave. And even if I do transfer to another place, don't you think I would give you guys enough warning?"

"I suppose." Charlie crossed his arms in front of his chest. "So what have you been up to?" It felt strange to be asking his brother such generic questions but seeing as how they hadn't talked in a while, they needed to catch up while ignoring the intrinsic matter at hand.

"The usual," Don replied. "Work's been a murder – literally. Caught a case early Saturday, had to cancel dinner with Dad. He wasn't very happy with that, let me tell you."

"Nah, I can imagine, he's been wondering where you've been the past few weeks."

"Yeah…." Don brought up a hand to rub at his lips. "I meant to come over earlier but things have been on overdrive here," he waved a hand to motion to the office tower, "for a while, they've just slowed down now."

"It's okay, I guess I can't blame you, considering…" Charlie brought up a hand and scratched his ear. "I could have taken the initiative as well and come over to the office but… you know."

"Yeah"

"Yeah"

They lapsed into silence for the umpteenth time before Don startled Charlie by laughing suddenly and commenting:

"Never took you as one for beating around the bush, Chuck."

"Look who's talking, bro," retorted Charlie.

"So… truce?" Don asked cautiously, turning his face to look towards his brother.

Charlie considered the proposal for a few seconds before nodding once. "Yeah, truce." Charlie winced inwardly as he realized just how reluctant he sounded and what his brother must have thought.

"Alright." Don turned around and took a few steps until he was standing a few feet away from Charlie, facing him. "Anyway… I guess I better get back inside before they start sending out a search party. I'll see you around okay?"

"Sure," agreed Charlie and Don had started walking away when the mathematician realized that things still weren't a hundred percent, there was still some awkwardness between them which he really wanted to get rid of.

"Hey Don?" he called out and when his brother halted and turned around, he quickly added: "Want to come home, have some dinner? I know Dad will be happy to see you, at least."

Don appeared hesitant and spared a quick glance at his watch. "Thanks for the offer Charlie but I've still got about an hour's worth of work to get done before I can get home." Shifting his feet, he added: "Why don't I pick you up for lunch tomorrow from CalSci, how's that?"

Charlie nodded, but tried to hide his disappointment. "Sure. Sounds good."

"Alright," said Don and began walking towards the building. After a few steps he suddenly turned and with a smile, called out: "Go home, Chuck, we're fine."

"Yeah," said Charlie. He hoped so.

**Khatum (The End)**

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**A/N: **I just felt like clarifying one point: I know many of you will be disappointed that I didn't come out and fully say what the fight between Don and Charlie was about but that was the point of my experiment - everything through the power of suggestion, throwing in allusions rather than base facts. I tend to think it's more like real life that way - rarely, if ever, are fights about one thing, and between brothers, they can be from anything over who's going to answer the phone to disagreements on morals or principles. As for the weird resolution, again, trying to make it seem realistic from my own observations.

Hope you aren't too disappointed with the end, but gotta admit, the power of suggestion is fun to write :-) Have a nice weekend, everyone.


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